


Fools

by witchee_writer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve just wants to be there for his best bud, and by best bud i mean his future husband, they just haven't talked about that yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchee_writer/pseuds/witchee_writer
Summary: Bucky wanted to let Steve in, he did, but he had done so many terrible things. Steve deserved better then him, right? That was what he told himself but maybe he was just scared. The old Bucky was long gone, what if Steve didn't like whoever the hell was left?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Fools

**Author's Note:**

> Is that a good summary? I don't know. I hate writing summaries. There should be a summary robot for this very purpose. 
> 
> To the point, Stucky is great. I am a bit late to the party, but my eyes have now been opened (I now have 50,000 + worth of fics to read, so maybe waiting was a good call). This is my first Stucky fic, be kind to me. I'll get better, probably, I hope. I always adored Stucky, but I was never that invested. I'm invested now 100%. Great timing, now that Steve is in the past, but hey, the multiverse is a thing so we'll make it work.

Steve was unhappy.

He tried to hide it, but he was never that good a liar. At least, not to Bucky. No matter how long it had been, he could still read him like a book. Bucky, James, the Winter Soldier, he was still working out who he was, but Steve was one of the few things that made sense to him. Whether it was the skinny, unhealthy boy from Brooklyn or the strong, loyal, specimen that he was now, they were still Steve.

And he was unhappy.

He could see it in his eyes, the sadness, the frustration. He could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the twitch in his fingers. He was unhappy, but trying desperately to pretend otherwise.

It was Bucky's fault. He knew he was wanted there, with Steve, no matter what but it was complicated. There were days when Bucky was more brainwashed assassin then he was Captain America's best friend, when he could hardly even recognise where he was, what year it was, what had happened. There were days when Bucky could see it all clearer then he ever could, all the terrible things he had done, the people he had killed. He had killed Howard Stark and his wife for god's sake, and now he lived in the tower his son had built? It felt wrong. Steve tried to be there for him, to reassure him, but that felt wrong too. Bucky didn't deserve his kindness, his love (and that was a whole different box waiting to be opened). He didn't deserve this chance, no matter how much Steve wanted it, how much faith and trust he put in him. Bucky had more control now, his memories (both old and new) came back to him every day, but he would never be the man he had been before he had fallen from the train.

Too much had happened, too much had changed.

He tried, he tried to be the man that Steve wanted him to be but it wasn't that easy. Bucky couldn't bear to let him see the darkest parts of him, couldn't bear to tell him about the nightmares and the things he had done. Bucky lived with him in his apartment in Stark Tower, he trained with him, ate with him, watched baseball with him and it felt good, comfortable, _right_ , but it was only easy because Steve didn't know all he had done. He might have been brainwashed but he had still done it. His ledger was dripping red, far more then Natalia's had ever been. She was the only one that understood, the only one that he could speak his darkest thoughts too. She had been an agent of the Red Room, she knew, she knew it all. Natalia was proof that he could come out the other side, but choosing the right side and bearing his entire soul to the only person that mattered were two very different things.

It was- it was just hard.

He trusted Steve more then anybody else on this planet and beyond (because that was apparently a thing now), but Bucky didn't want things to change between them. He didn't want Steve to be disappointed in him, he didn't want to burden Steve with the things he had done because he didn't deserve that.

"You can't keep running to me, James," said Natalia, her voice quiet as she watched Steve retreat into his bedroom. There was an argument to call it 'their' bedroom, given how often Bucky slept in his bed, tucked against his side, warm and safe. It was selfish, really. Bucky kept him at a distance and yet clung to him so tightly. Steve never said anything, but he didn't have too.

They used to tell each other everything when they were younger. Bucky told him what Zola had done to him, and Steve told him what the serum had felt like. The pain they had been through had never mattered as long as they had each other. But now- now there was a distance between them that had never been there before. Bucky couldn't bring himself to bear himself to his friend, and Steve could never bring himself to say anything about it. He never even asked anymore, simply called Natalia if she was nearby or retreated to a different room "to give him space".

Bucky sighed, "He mourned for me enough, I caused him pain, I don't want to cause him more."

"You cause him pain by not letting him help you," said Natalia, pointedly. She never softened her tone with him, she was never afraid he would snap. "But you don't need me to tell you that."

She was right. He knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. Bucky still crawled into Steve's bed in the middle of the night, still relished the warmth and comfort as Steve would wrap him in his arms without a word. Apologies lingered on his lips, but Bucky could never bring himself to say them, he wasn't sure Steve would even want to hear them. He didn't want apologies, he just wanted Bucky to let him in. They had quiet moments under the cover of night but it would go no further while Bucky was unwilling to be honest with Steve.

He knew that. 

It still wasn't enough, even if he did want more. More moments with Steve, more anything with Steve. 

That was a relatively new feeling, he thought. Bucky remembered being content enough with how things were, remembered pushing down the jealousy when Steve stared after Peggy Carter. He saw flashes of their time during the war, lying side by side while their companions got some much needed rest. It was not unusual for them to wake in each other's arms. Bucky knew how he felt, how he had felt long before the war, when Steve was still getting himself beat up and Bucky would intervene. He was never sure how Steve had felt, though he began to suspect it was not as one sided as he had lead himself to believe. He had been content, then, letting things play out on their own. He wasn't content now, he just wasn't sure he deserved to have Steve love him back.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" said Steve, his voice soft. Bucky didn't look at him, couldn't bear it. "I want to be there for you, Buck. You don't have to hide how you're feeling, whatever you've seen or whatever has set you off because you think it'll change us. It won't, it could never."

"I know," Bucky murmured. And he did, truly he did. The logical part of him knew that Steve would never abandon him or look at him any differently but it wasn't the logical part of him that was the problem. "I just need time, Stevie."

"You can have all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere."

A part of Bucky wished that Steve would let himself be angry, he was allowed to be angry. Bucky wasn't that delicate, he might even be glad. Steve shouldn't have had to swallow his feelings just because his best friend was an unstable, former Soviet assassin. He supposed neither of them were quite ready to reveal their true feelings. The thing was, while Bucky no longer had any jobs to attend too, Steve was still an Avenger. Steve still went out on missions, Steve still came back bruised and tired. Bucky was supposed to be the one that watched his back, what if something happened and he wasn't there?

It was only a matter of time.

And time had never been kind to either one of them.

He knew something was wrong when Natalia appeared at his door (their door), still in full uniform, her face carefully blank. It sent a shiver down his spine, and her eyes flickered to the way his fists clenched. She didn't need to tell him that something had gone wrong for him to know. She wouldn't have been there if it hadn't.

"Where is he?" said Bucky, his tone cold. Natalia didn't flinch, he didn't expect her too.

"Med-bay, he's being looked after now." Bucky tried to move around her, to find Steve, to be by his side, but Natalia held her ground. He knew it was bad when she switched to Russian, _"You are to stay here, James. Let the doctors work on him, his wounds are serious but he will be fine."_

_"I should be there-"_

_"Stark's orders, we don't need you scaring our doctors. Rogers doesn't need you scaring the doctors."_

The fight left him, and he allowed Natalia to guide him back into the apartment. Steve had been Steve, taking a hit that had belonged to someone else. They received word that he was recovering, but still unconscious. Bucky still wasn't allowed to go and see him. He hated it, but there was no chance to sneak out with Natalia babysitting him. He hated that too.

He should have been there.

He could have been there, but Bucky had been holding himself back. He knew that until he confronted his past and all he had done, he would never be cleared for field work. It wasn't even something he and Steve had discussed yet. Just another thing to add to the list, really.

They almost hadn't gotten the chance either.

It only took one thing to go wrong, one split-second decision. What if Steve had been killed? What if he had been killed and Bucky had never told him all the things he had wanted to say? The thought alone made panic claw at his throat, despair cling to his skin.

Bucky sent Natalia away with the promise he would stay in Steve's apartment. He hadn't wanted the company, hadn't wanted her eyes watching his every move. Bucky had just wanted to be alone. He suspected the only reason she had allowed it was because Stark's security system wouldn't let him get far. 

Hours, days, he had no idea how much time passed before he heard the shuffle of feet. Bucky had given up pacing, had fallen into bed and stayed there, unable and unwilling to move. The apartment was dark, he hadn't been bothered to turn the lights on either.

"Buck?" The voice was hoarse, he heard heavy breathing. He sat up in an instant.

Steve leaned against the bedroom door, a hand pressed against his side. Bucky practically growled as he got out of the bed, as he guided Steve there instead. It was clear he shouldn't have been there, he always did push himself too hard.

"The doctors let you leave did they, Stevie?" said Bucky, easing Steve onto the bed, propping up his pillows. Steve grimaced.

"I'm fine," he said. Bucky glared at him, and he cleared his throat. "Well, not fine, but I will be. I- I was worried about you."

"Worried about me?" said Bucky, incredulously. "You're stealing my lines. Natalia told me what happened, what were you thinking?"

"Did what I had to do." His voice was starting to soften, his eyes struggling to stay open. Bucky vaguely wondered what kind of super strength pain killers they had him on because he knew from experience there was little that could keep them down for long.

Bucky sighed, "Go to sleep, Steve. We can talk about how much of an idiot you are in the morning."

A hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. Steve was frowning, "Where are you going?"

"You need to rest-"

"I need you to stay."

Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again, he couldn't deny Steve, he could never deny Steve. He had wanted to give him space, he was injured, he needed to recover but... if it was what he wanted, Bucky moved around the bed and laid down next to him. Steve relaxed into the mattress, his face content as he blindly reached out for Bucky's hand and held onto it, tightly. Bucky let out a breath, his eyes slipping closed.

"Love you," Steve whispered.

Bucky's heart stuttered, his eyes opened. He tilted his head to the side, and Steve studied him. His gaze was clear, perhaps he had overestimated the drugs that Steve had been given, perhaps he had just been tired after making the journey from the med-bay alone. That wasn't the look of a man under the influence, that was the look of a man that knew exactly what he was saying. The grip he had on his hand tightened.

"I don't regret what I did, but for a brief moment I was terrified I wouldn't get to tell you. I love you, I've loved you since I was 17 years old-"

"Well, I beat you there, buddy. I've loved you since we were 14 years old."

Steve's gaze softened, his lips twitching up. "I never stopped loving you, I still love you, even when it hurts me that you won't let me be there for you."

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes. "Steve..."

"I don't care what you did, because that wasn't you," he said, firmly. "I know you, I know you better then anyone alive or dead. Nothing you did will make me love you any less, nothing you will do will make me love you any less." A hand brushed against his cheek, and Bucky forced his eyes open again, forced himself to meet Steve's gaze. He pressed his cheek against Steve's hand.

"I just- I didn't want you to be disappointed."

"Bucky-"

"No, I know you, and I know you wouldn't be. I know you wouldn't care, but I guess I cared. I wanted to be the man I was before."

"Neither of us are the men we were before," whispered Steve.

Bucky turned his head, pressed his lips to the palm of Steve's hand. "I know."

"We'll get through this together, you and me, till the end of the line."

"Till the end of the line," echoed Bucky. He felt a rush of affection towards the other, but that was nothing new. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Go to sleep, punk. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Of course you will be, you're still on lock down."

Bucky rolled his eyes, " _Go to sleep._ "

Steve smirked, but allowed his eyes to close. He shifted closer, despite his injuries, and Bucky got the message well enough, closing the distance between them, pressing himself against his side. Steve let out a breath, the grip on his hand still tight.

He knew he would still have bad days, days where he withdrew into himself, when the world blurred around him. But maybe, just maybe, if he let Steve help him through those days, they wouldn't be quite so bad.

Natalia had been a good substitute, she understood what he had been through better then anyone possibly could, but she wasn't Steve. Natalia might have understood, but Steve was the one that would help him to heal. Clint Barton had done that for her, Steve would do it for him.

Steve would do anything and everything for him. He had gone on a suicide mission behind enemy lines on the off chance he still lived. He would do it again and again too. There was no one else that Bucky would rather have by his side.

He was a fool to have kept his pain from him in the first place.

They were both fools.

But no more, they were done being foolish (at least in regard to each other). This was their time, their second chance, they were not going to waste it.

"You tell me to go to sleep," muttered Steve, without opening his eyes. "I can practically hear you thinking. Go to sleep, Sergeant."

Bucky smirked, "Yes, sir."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

Steve laughed, breathily. "I mean it, go to sleep. I'm tired, it's been a long few days."

"You're telling me." Bucky shifted, pressing his face to Steve's shoulder. He could feel his steady heartbeat, hear it with his sensitive hearing. He let out a breath, focusing on it. It wasn't like when they were younger, when Bucky couldn't sleep, too worried about the rattling sound in his friend's chest, in the too fast heartbeat. Those days were long gone. "I'll sleep, I promise."

"Good," said Steve, softly.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you found me."

There was a long pause, and then- "I'll always find you."

Bucky smiled, "Night, Stevie."

"Goodnight, Buck."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any errors, I don't edit very well. Thanks for reading though! Xx


End file.
